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She looks away, but the smile on her lips remains. “She may have mentioned something about that.”
“That was her last warning, you know. Head for the hills now.”
“I got that impression,” she replies.
“Yet, here you are anyway,” my tone is light and slightly teasing. “Which tells me that you're not a woman easily daunted or deterred – though, you never have been, really.”
Emily raises her head and finally looks me in the eye. Her gaze is firm, her jaw is set, and there is a look of pure determination on her face. It looks to me like she's come to a decision.
“I'm not a woman who's easily daunted or deterred, that's true,” she begins. “But I'm also not a woman who puts up with anybody's bullshit, either.”
“I never thought you were. In fact, I remember you being quite the opposite, actually,” I explain with a laugh.
“That's something else that hasn't changed about me.”
“That's good. I want and need a firm voice of reason sometimes,” I tell her. “I'm demanding, yes. But, I'm not arbitrarily difficult. I'm not an asshole simply for the sake of being an asshole –”
“Well that's new about you, then.”
My words die on my lips as I look at her and sit there completely flabbergasted for a moment. It's only after she can't keep her smile or laughter in that I realize she's screwing with me. Her laugh sounds like crystal wind chimes on a soft breeze – it's a pleasant and melodic sound. It's a sound I can get used to hearing again.
I shake my head. “Nice. But I think for that crack I'm going to have to reduce the offer sheet by twenty percent.”
She puts her hand protectively on the binder. “Sorry, it's already in writing. And once it's in writing, the offer can't legally be amended.”
“Not until you sign it,” I correct her.
She holds up the pen and waves it at me. “Touché.”
The atmosphere in the room is a lot lighter and a bit more carefree than it was just two minutes ago. I'm grateful for it. There seems to be something of a rapport building between us – one that I was hard-pressed to come by back in the day. It was a rapport I wanted, but even when we were on friendlier terms, Emily held me at an arm's distance.
“So, does this mean you’ll take the job?” I ask.
She doesn't answer for a couple of long seconds before she puts pen to paper and scratches out her signature. Finished, she sets the pen down and looks at me, those soulful brown eyes boring through me. There is so much wisdom and intelligence in her gaze and yet, so much pain as well. I again have to wonder what it was that happened in her life that brought her to this point.
I also wonder about the twist of fate that put us in each other's orbits once more. I wonder about what it all means – and then immediately wonder why I'm even contemplating the idea of fate. I don't believe in fate. We write our own destiny.
Still, it seems a bit weird to me that after what we shared all those years ago – not to mention three thousand miles from here – that we both ended up in LA. Of all the places in this enormous country of ours, to not just end up in the same city, but to have her show up at my company looking for work. It's coincidence stacked on top of coincidence – and I've never been a believer in coincidences.
Which makes it a little harder to deny that there isn't something at play that I can't explain.
“I guess that's what it means,” she finally says.
“Excellent,” I respond. “I'm happy to have you on board.”
I get to my feet and shake her hand – like a proper and professional person would. I want to make the right impression and not scare her off, after all. Once upon a time, I actually thought she might be the one. There was a time – brief, though it was – when I thought I could be in love with Emily Hall. I don't know if those feelings are still there or if they've been eroded away by time and experience, but I want to find out.
Which means, I need to be on my best behavior to keep her around for a while until I figure out if that old spark between us is still there somewhere in the darkness.
“You'll start on Monday. Come ready to work,” I tell her. “Go ahead and fill out the rest of your paperwork, then see Ms. Reynolds about getting your security badge.”
Her smile is a little uncertain, as if she doesn't know whether or not she's making the right call, but I see a resolve in her eyes. She'll at least give it a try. “I'll see you Monday then,” she says. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
“It's my pleasure, Emily,” I say as I turn toward the door, then turn back and fix her with a weighty gaze. “It really is good to see you again.”
“Yeah, you too,” she replies.
And with that, I turn and leave the conference room, suddenly looking forward to Monday.
